After the Funeral
by HR always live on
Summary: A one shot, set shortly after Ros's funeral in S9. Harry wants an honest conversation with Ruth, but where will this lead them? Harry's point of view.


**Well, it's been a long time since I've posted, but I'm just not really in the mood to be writing much lately! I think my old posting speed will vanish for the foreseeable future too. Hope you enjoy this one shot, set at the very beginning of S9 and told from Harry's pov.**

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"A turn around the grounds?" I say. She nods and we move away from the church, walking in silence until we reach a fence. It's a beautiful day, the sun shining and Ruth closes her eyes for a moment as the breeze washes over her face. She is so beautiful that for a few seconds I forget what I wanted to talk to her about. Then I feel a hollowness, and I'm nervous as she opens her clear blue eyes and looks at me.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asks gently.

"George," I say. There's no point beating around the bush. She immediately looks down at her hands resting on the fence. I feel a moment of regret for bringing this up, but it needs to be said, to be out in the open. Especially after Ros's death, I almost feel like time is running out. "And us. I need to know how you feel," I say. "I long for you, Ruth. I want you badly. I want to know if I have any hope of us becoming… anything more, or if that's passed us by."

"Harry…"

"I mean it," I say, holding firm. I don't want her to run from me, but this is a conversation that's been long overdue. "If you've moved on from… us, I'd rather know. I can't… I don't like how things are between us. With maybe the chance of something more. Life is just far too short."

She's still looking at her hands and I wonder if I've said too much, pushed her too far when she starts to speak. "With George… it's not the same. At the time, I couldn't come home. I couldn't be where I so desperately wanted to be. George was a good friend to me, and it was companionship. I didn't…" she's still looking down and I know she's uncomfortable talking about this with me but right now I don't care. I need to hear whatever it is she's going to say.

"I didn't love him. He didn't love me." I feel some of the nervousness vanish, only now realising how much I depended on an answer like that. "He was still in love with his late wife, Nico's mother. But with George dying like that, I feel so guilty. Or, I did feel guilty. Maybe it's wrong, but I don't any more. He was my friend. I thought it was as good a life as I was likely to get, when I couldn't come back to Britain." She hasn't looked at me once since we started speaking and I'm wondering if I've blown it. Whatever she says, this has to be a painful subject for her.

Still looking down, she carries on, her cheeks slightly flushed. "The way I felt for him and the way I feel for you just don't compare, Harry." She slides her hand across the top of the fence to mine and entwines our fingers together. Her skin is soft but cold, her fingers gently moving over mine.

"Please look at me," I say, squeezing her palm gently. It takes a moment, but she lifts her eyes to mine and I see she's nearly crying and I don't know why. "Ruth…"

With her free hand she wipes her eyes and shakes her head. "Sorry, I don't mean to…"

I'm not aware of making the decision, but I kiss her. She doesn't react straight away, and fearing I've made a horrible mistake I pull away very quickly. "Sorry."

"No, don't," she says, almost a whisper. She grasps my coat and pulls me into another, deeper kiss. I smile against her lips as her hands wander into my hair, pulling me close to her. Oh God, she tastes so good. It's been years since I've been kissed like this. She moans quietly into my mouth as I wrap my arms around her tightly, her body pressed against mine. I want her so much it's almost painful, I don't care that we're in a cemetery and we've just left Ros's funeral. I simply don't care.

"Harry…" she whispers as our lips part. I don't let go of her though, keeping my hands on her waist. I need to touch her, to stay physically connected to her.

"Come over to mine for dinner tonight," I say. "I'll cook." I can't cook, so why I suggested that, I've no idea.

"You cook?" she asks with a smile on her face, as if reading my mind. It's been a long time since I've seen her smile.

"No," I reply, shaking my head. "I can't cook." She smiles, more broadly this time. She reaches for me and I almost hold my breath as she straightens my tie. Her fingers caress my throat gently and I know that were we in private, rather than a public setting where anyone could interrupt us, I know that I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off her. Even in public, it's a struggle for me not to move my hands off her waist, slip my hands under her clothes, and touch her bare skin. The fact that I'm so close makes it hard to control my impulses.

"I'll pick up the Chinese," she says, eyes sparkling with pleasure. "You take care of the wine."

"Yes," I agree with pleasure. "Seven?"

"Perfect," she says.

"Harry!" We both turn at Lucas calling my name and I drop my hands from her quickly but reluctantly. I know from bitter experience that she won't want him to see us in an even slightly intimate position. Lucas is indicating that we have to go and I know yet another emergency has happened back on the grid. I sigh and turn to leave.

"Wait." Ruth quickly kisses me, brief and slight before we go. I'm so surprised that I'm frozen for a moment before common sense kicks in and I follow her. That's her small way of showing me that maybe, just maybe she no longer cares what our colleagues think of our relationship and the thought warms me. I don't care what the emergency is at work, I'm looking forward to tonight. Immensely.

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 **Thanks for reading and I hope you can leave a review.**


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